


The Man in the Tan Trenchcoat

by whichstiel



Series: Season 12 Codas [17]
Category: Supernatural, Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Angels, Crossover, Episode Tag, Gen, Season/Series 12, episode coda, ladies drink free, probably in night vale, spn 12x16, talking to 'erika', weremice, what is castiel up to
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 09:18:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10510833
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whichstiel/pseuds/whichstiel
Summary: The Welcome to Night Vale / Supernatural season 12 episode 16 crossover nobody asked for.**Now with extra weremice!





	

**Author's Note:**

> For the uninitiated, [Welcome to Night Vale](http://www.welcometonightvale.com/) is a fiction podcast that is AWESOME. It's narrated by a character named Cecil, who hosts a radio show. Assume that anything that isn't indented or in quotes is spoken by Cecil in the course of his radio show. 
> 
> And did anyone else notice in the Supernatural episode that Mick implied they made WEREMICE? I sure did :D
> 
> I blame my ShirtlessSammy co-blogger for this.

The river begins at the source. The source begins at the darkness. The darkness begins all.

Welcome to Night Vale.

Khoshekh has been acting strangely lately. I went in the men’s bathroom this morning to feed him his favorite Science Diet Low Calorie cat food (Science Diet! Eat it because: Science!) and bring him a new glo-ball. When I arrived he meowed and meowed and staring intently at a corner of the bathroom, lashing his tail like a tropical storm. When I looked over, I saw a mouse scurrying along the wall. The mouse dragged a tangle of copper and coated wires behind it.

“Khoshekh,” I said. “It’s just a mouse building a nest. It won’t hurt you.” Khoshekh purred in despair and I scratched him behind his ears. I did so while standing, which reminded me that Khoshekh floats four feet above the ground without surcease. He can’t catch a mouse unless it’s at his height - four feet above the ground! Poor Khoshekh. This reminds me of that old story of Tantalus, who desperately wanted to reach his TV to change the channel so he could stop screaming in agony as the City Council gave their annual blood sacrifice press conference. His arms were too short; he could never reach the buttons on the television. His panic and horror grew until the shrieks he uttered no longer seemed to come from him, but surrounded him like packed wool around a fragile vase. His skin cracked. His eyes burned. And the television bled a river into his living room. Blood pooled at his feet. 

Anyway, Tantalus eventually invented the remote control, so I’m sure Khoshekh will think of something. 

I gave him an extra scoop of cat food. I love having a pet.

I have a new intern! Her name is Anita. She studies poetry with a minor in necromancy at Night Vale Community College. Welcome aboard, Anita!

Anita joined our team here at Night Vale Community Radio when she called in earlier this morning to file her first report. Our listener tip line is how we acquire many of our interns. Anita reported running into a tall man in a tan trenchcoat this morning outside the Gas ‘n’ Sip. He appeared out of nowhere, Anita reported. So, for that matter, did the Gas ‘n’ Sip. 

The man in the tan trenchcoat stood with clenched hands, jaw set like iron against the world. He glared at Anita and she glared back. “It’s just instinct, you know?” she said about their exchange. “To be polite.” 

The man in the tan trenchcoat claimed to be from Heaven. Neither Anita nor I are sure where “Heaven” is but I think it might be by Minnesota? The country, not the roadside diner. According to intrepid intern Anita, the man in the tan trenchcoat has traveled to Night Vale in search of angels. Anita explained to him, over the blaring noise of the sirens that instantly sound whenever someone is foolish enough to utter the word “angel”, that there are no such things as angels. Great report, Anita!

Listeners, you may remember a story from a while back about buildings getting stolen from the miniature city located under the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex. The buildings, each of them carefully extracted by mysterious operatives, were packed into crates and shipped to warehouses in the desert. According to Teddy Williams, the bowling alley’s owner, buildings are once again being extracted from the city. I hope this doesn’t mean another war. Carlos’ and my bowling team is supposed to play there on Saturday and I just finished cleaning viscera off our shoes. 

Teddy told me (in a mass email sent out to nightvale-insurrection.listserv) that this morning he woke up to a note scrawled in hot wing sauce across the span of one of the bowling lanes. The note read: 

> “Stop stealing our homes, or else.” 

The message was followed by a semicolon and parentheses that Carlos, when I showed him the email, explained as a “winky face emoticon.”

“As a scientist,” Carlos told me, adorably, “I’ve been exploring new ways to communicate human emotion. What if we could think in color? Sing with our hands? My first breakthrough has been repurposing common elements of written speech to convey human emotion. I think soon we’ll have a major breakthrough and actually be able to read minds with this technology.”

Wow. Isn’t science amazing? 

Now, a break for a word from our sponsors.

 

> _You’ve lived a long life. A loooooooooooooooooooooooong life. Now, when your eyes glow yellow under the full moon-- When your nails grow long and sharp and you want nothing more than to rip a still-beating heart from your neighbor’s chest and cram it, weeping, into your mouth-- When you want to consume it in great, sucking gulps--_
> 
> _ Eat a Snickers.  _
> 
> _ There’s a hunger inside you.  _

 

Oh! Listeners, we have a call. 

> **Steve Carlsberg:** Hi Cecil!

Steve. Why are you calling? Don’t you know I’m at work? 

> **Steve Carlsberg:** Oh, yeah! I just thought your listeners might be curious about this strange interaction I just had.

My show isn’t just a vanity show for you, Steve. God.

> **Steve Carlsberg:** I’m talking to a man wearing a tan trenchcoat? You were just talking about him on your show.

You just spoke with the man in the tan trenchcoat? Did he say what he was after? Listeners, I hear mumbling on the line. I wonder if the man is still there--

Ouch! There goes the siren again. Steve. Steve! Tell him to stop using that word! Oh. Okay. The siren has stopped. 

> **Steve Carlsberg:** Sorry about that, Cecil. Anyway, the man in the tan trenchcoat was asking me about the - well - you know what. I told him you might know. Can I hand the phone to him?

Uh, I guess I… Hello? Hello, Steve? Listeners, there’s some fumbling. The sounds of air, skin slapping the microphone on the cellular telephone, sliding fabric.

> **Man in the Tan Trenchcoat:** Hello?

Hello? 

> **Man in the Tan Trenchcoat:** Hello? Can you hear me? Is this thing working here? My phone doesn’t get a signal.

You need a Night Vale sim card. Wasn’t that part of your welcome package? You did...get a welcome package, right? 

> **Man in the Tan Trenchcoat:** My name is Castiel. I’ve been sent here on a mission from Heaven to find a missing angel.

Ah! That darn siren sounds like it’s rattling from inside my skull! Say that again? 

> **Man in the Tan Trenchcoat:** I’m an angel of the lord and I’m trying to find another missing angel.

Well, there’s no need to shout so much. I can hear you over the siren. Wait. There. There. It’s stopped again. You said you’re an angel named Castiel? That makes no sense. Everybody knows that all angels are named Erika.

> **Man in the Tan Trenchcoat:** Yes. My name is Castiel. I’m looking for- For Erika. 

You know, I know quite a bit about angels. If you’re really an angel - which I doubt because your name is apparently NOT Erika - what were you before?

> **Man in the Tan Trenchcoat:** Before?

Yes! Before you were an angel where you a cat? Or a plant? I consider myself to be quite the angel expert. 

> **Man in the Tan Trenchcoat:** What? No. This is a very odd town. 

Every town is odd, in its own way. The town of Desert Bluffs, for example, apparently forces its children to listen to librarians, those nightmare horrors, read stories to them. It’s enough to make you see bitter and taste red. 

> **Man in the Tan Trenchcoat:** Where can I find Erika?

Oh, Erika? She lives at Old Woman Josie’s house. I could meet you there, if you like? I’m sure my listeners would love to see you talk to angels - especially if you claim to be one. We haven’t had a comedy episode in weeks!

Okay, residents of Night Vale. I’ll be heading out to Old Woman Josie’s house in a few minutes. Before I go, a word from our sponsors.

 

> _ Do you have pests? Little, creeping monsters crawling along your floorboards? Eating your cheese? Writing notes in the steam on your bathroom mirror before you get out of the shower? Stealing your electrical wires for their own nefarious purposes? In short, do you have a mouse infestation? Fear no more! Call Ketch Me If You Can pest control. We’ll help you eliminate the infestation.  _

 

Wow. There certainly have been a lot of reports of rodents in people’s houses lately. I’m glad to hear small business has risen to the occasion! Why, just this morning I stepped with bare feet onto a tiny table lamp no bigger than the tip of my pinkie finger. It was gold, and the thin shards of glass from the delicate bulb dug into the sole of my foot like thistle thorns. I really wish Khosheck could run along the floor. Or leave Night Vale Community Radio’s men’s bathroom. I know he would be able to handle any rodent problem. Anyway, off I go to meet Castiel, the imposter angel! Ha ha ha, what a weird guy. I love it. 

__________

Well, by the time I got to Old Woman Josie’s house the faux angel Castiel was already there. All the Erikas were out on the lawn, milling about like honeybees dancing a map to food. 

The Erikas are facing the man in the tan trenchcoat and appear to be...angry? I’ve never seen an angry angel before. It’s very strange. Like a cloud passed overhead, except the cloud wraps itself around my heart and squeezes and squeezes until everything goes dark…

“Erika,” Castiel says to the assembled angels. “You need to come back to Heaven. Stop this-- Whatever this is. We have a battle looming against the progeny of Lucifer.”

At this name all the Erikas began to howl. From somewhere far away - over mountains that do not exist you can’t tell me otherwise - a new siren begins to scream. 

Castiel balls his hands into fists and stands with his legs wide apart as though poised to stop a train. “Erika,” he says in an imposing, deep tone. “You must come with me. Lucifer’s progeny will soon walk the Earth. It will descend and ascend and assume control of the world. The Host shall be destroyed.” He voice drops lower still. “One day it will come for even you - even here.”

The Erikas twist their hands in their hair and wail at the news. Then, as one, they say, “Never!” Something silver manifests from the air. Listeners I - I was too blinded by a sudden brilliant white light to see exactly where it came from. The Erikas appear to be holding several silver swords. Or are all of them holding just one sword, together? Ugh, this is why we don’t talk about angels. 

Now Castiel has a silver blade in his hand! Where did that come from? Never mind. Erikas! Castiel! Lay down your weapons! Oh dear. Lightning flashes in the cloudless sky. This-- This can’t be good. While I try to sort this out, I now take you to the weather. 

>   
>  [THE WEATHER](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S0NFaQcTJsg)   
> 

It looked like battle for sure. The static smell of rage filled the air as Castiel and the Erikas faced off and then--

Mice! Mice streamed onto Old Woman Josie’s lawn. An endless river of gray, bristling mouse bodies with shining yellow eyes poured in. They were bigger than normal mice and their teeth, sharp, extended out from beneath their lips. The mice carried colorful refrigerator magnets on their backs. You know - the regulation alphabet letter magnets that every Night Vale citizen is required to keep on their refrigerator just in case the town once again experiences widespread muteness and needs to invoke elder, pagan gods to restore our power of speech? 

They dropped the magnets on the ground in front of all of us and began to arrange them, scurrying like gray blurs across the grass. They eventually wrote:

> DO NOT HARM ONE ANOTHER
> 
> ERIKA DO NOT LEAVE YOU ARE NEEDED HERE
> 
> CASTIEL YOUR PLACE IS NOT HERE EARTH AWAITS YOUR AID

Well, my jaw just dropped. Who ever heard of mice that could spell that well? Castiel is leaning down now, holding out his hand low so that one of the mice may climb into his palm. He’s raising his hand to his ear. He’s nodding slowly as a mouse presses his snout against his ear. He’s jerking his head back. I’m not sure why. 

Oh, Castiel’s asking it questions. He wants to know if the mouse is truly from Earth. The mouse nods. 

“And you are lycanthropic?” Castiel says to the little mouse in his hands. “Incredible. Raised in a lab in England? You escaped from your cages and you led your people here?”

Listeners, by “England,” I believe he is referring to the magical land only accessible through an old wooden wardrobe chained shut in Mayor Dana Cardinal’s office. Oh! The mouse is jumping down from Castiel’s hand. And now the mice are scrambling all around once more. They’re writing more with their big, brightly colored alphabet letters that they’ve purloined from all over the city. 

> WE ARE HERE PEACEFULLY
> 
> ERIKAS MUST STAY OR NIGHT VALE WILL BURN
> 
> DO NOT TRUST HEAVEN

Castiel is standing now, his eyes wide as he reads the ground. Suddenly his blade disappears and the Erikas’ many silver blades or one great smiting blade disappears as well. The mice nod at the angels, and at Castiel, the faux angel. 

> GO, the letters march by. WE WILL REMAIN
> 
> OUR FINGERS PRESSED INTO THE HOLE IN THE WALL OF REALITY
> 
> HOLDING BACK THE FLOOD WATERS

“All right,” the Erikas all say. As one, they point at the legion of mice on the lawn. “But you need to stop stealing from the city under the Desert Flower Bowling Alley and Arcade Fun Complex.”

The mice all hang their heads sadly. Their soft gray ears droop and suddenly, despite their vicious yellow eyes, I find them really quite adorable. I wonder if I can introduce them to Khoshekh? Perhaps a contingent of them could move into the men’s room as well.

Castiel stands up and one of the Erikas steps forward. They’re shaking hands. It seems amicable enough. “Go,” the Erikas say. “Give our best to Heaven. Keep your nose clean, kid.” Castiel nods, waves at everyone gathered, and retreats down the road, a lonely figure slicing across the landscape until it recedes into nothing.

The Erikas look down at the gathered mice one more time. “Keep your noses clean, too,” they say. “We’ll deal with the Exterminator.” Lightning flashes one more time and then mice and angels alike depart. 

Whew! What an interesting day. But Old Woman Josie’s lawn is absolutely littered with colorful refrigerator magnets. What a mess! I hope nobody needs their magnets right away for an incantation. Listeners, be sure to stop by Old Woman Josie’s old house to pick up your magnets before the Council gets wind of your loss. I’ll just grab some for me and Carlos... Alphabet magnets are so much better and more comfortable than blood runes.

Good night, Night Vale. Good night.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! I'm on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/whichstiel) and [Tumblr](http://whichstiel.tumblr.com/) @ whichstiel. You may also like the Supernatural recap and gif blog I co-write/curate, [Shirtless Sammy](https://shirtlesssammy.tumblr.com/).


End file.
